


I woke up like this #weflawless

by jadore_hale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Human, Braeden Is Mentioned, Crack, Crush at First Sight, Famous Stiles Stilinski, Hairy Derek, Humor, I Shrank Stiles, Makeover, Multi, Non-Binary Stiles Stilinski, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Tons of Beyonce References, Ugly Derek, hair stylist stiles, queer eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadore_hale/pseuds/jadore_hale
Summary: “Excuse me?” Derekjust had tointerrupt. “But what the hell is going on here?”“Your sister wrote me a letter about how you’ve been aiming to ask this girl, Braeden, out for over a year,” Stiles explained. “Since Beacon Hills is my hometown, and we’ll be having our grand opening soon, I decided to help you score. In other words, you’re getting a makeover, dude.”With no reaction on his face whatsoever, Derek pulled out his phone and flipped it open, pressing the very first button on speed dial.“What are you doing?” Stiles asked as Derek put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring.“Calling the Sheriff’s station,” he answered.“Why?”“Because I’ve been kidnapped and held against my will.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm being weirdly productive for someone that's currently binge-watching and obsessing over Queer Eye. Basically, this is celebrity hairstylist ! Stiles and his team giving Derek a complete makeover so he can chase some tail. If you've read enough of my fics, you already know this is absurd.
> 
> many many thanks to my awesome beta for the advice, encouragement, and going in and basically writing a scene in the second chapter. x33333

It’d been a long time since Derek had seen his sister this excited. So long, in fact, that his knee-jerk reaction was to associate Laura’s sudden happiness with impending doom. Something in his gut was telling him to alert the local authorities. With sisters like his, it was necessary to have the hospital, fire department, and sheriff’s station readily accessible on speed dial. Lord knows what disastrous circumstance could come out of this so-called _“hair appointment.”_

“I _cannot_ wait for this!” Laura was squealing, barely able to sit still in her chair. “He is an absolute genius! He’s worked with all the celebrities! His hands have actually _touched_ Beyoncé!”

While Derek definitely had a bad feeling about this, he didn’t want to spoil any of Laura’s fun. Laura rarely ever did anything for herself. When both their parents had died when they were young, it was Laura who’d stepped up and made the most sacrifices to take care of him and Cora. Which was why Derek hadn’t questioned it when Laura asked him for this small favor of driving her to the hair salon. Or at least, he hadn’t questioned it until now.

“…Wait…How can you afford this…?”

Just before Derek could ask his sister to submit to a polygraph test, the salon’s receptionist appeared. “Ms. Hale,” she spoke very softly, “Stiles will see you now. If…um…the two of you… would…um…just…uh…follow…er—”

Derek couldn’t help but notice the way the receptionist avoided looking in his direction. Her stammering continued and it was looking like she might never get a word out. But then high heels clicked across the floor as a person, presumably this notorious Stiles character, sauntered into the reception area to put her out of her misery.

“Kira, we’ve talked about this. You’re going to be amazing at this job! Just take a deep breath and relax. You don’t have to be so nerv- _AHH!!_ ”

Derek could’ve thrown his head back and hollered at the display. Really, he could have laughed himself into tears as this Stiles-person grabbed the tiny receptionist and put her behind their back, shielding her as they both cowered in fear. This was a normal, everyday reaction that people had when they saw him. It didn’t offend him in the slightest. He loved knowing that he could instill this amount of fear in people just by his appearance.

“Mr. Stilinski.” Laura stepped forward and approached them cautiously. “I’m Laura Hale and this is my brother, Derek. I’m a huge fan of your work.”

Recognition seemed to dawn on Stiles then and he unwinded himself from his tiny receptionist to shake Laura’s hand. “Call me Stiles,” he said with a wary smile then gasped, “Oh my god, your hair is absolutely stunning!”

Derek rolled his eyes when Laura beamed and ran her fingers through her long, dark tresses. As if Laura needed more things to be conceited about. Stiles’ eyes moved over to Derek next, squinting as they observed him closely, not even bothering to hide the harsh scrutiny the way most politely did.

“You’re right. We have a lot of work to do,” Stiles sighed, shaking his head.

“Do you think he has potential,” Laura asked, surveying Derek as well.

“Not sure.” Stiles tilted his head to the side and grimaced. “There just so much overgrowth covering everything. I’ll have to see when I get in there. But I can do a lot with this.”

“Excuse me?” Derek _just had to_ interrupt. “But what the hell is going on here?”

“Your sister wrote me a letter about how you’ve been aiming to ask this girl, Braeden, out for over a year,” Stiles explained. “Since Beacon Hills is my hometown, and we’ll be having our grand opening soon, I decided to help you score. In other words, you’re getting a makeover, dude.”

With no reaction on his face whatsoever, Derek pulled out his phone and flipped it open, pressing the very first button on speed dial.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked as Derek put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring.

“Calling the Sheriff’s station,” he answered.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been kidnapped and held against my will.”

“You have not been kidnapped.” Stiles pried the phone out of Derek’s hand and ended the call. “We’re not doing anything unless I have your consent, and you can leave whenever you want. Besides, my dad’s the Sheriff, and as a public servant, he can’t abide by the injustice that is that unibrow.”

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing with that!” Derek shouted as he watched Stiles snap his perfectly fine and functioning cell phone in half.

“Informing you that it is 2018 and it’s completely unacceptable for you to still be using a Nokia flip-phone.” Stiles tossed him the remnants.

The only reason Derek had a cellphone in the first place was that his sisters had insisted that they be able to reach him at any time. He hardly used it. Didn’t have much of a data plan. And only had two people in his contact book. Still, he didn’t appreciate someone else damaging his personal property.

He looked at Laura, fire practically breathing from his nostrils as he readied himself to give her a piece of his mind. Never in a million years would he have thought that he’d be _duped, lied to, bamboozled, tricked, hornswoggled, mislead, betrayed, and swindled_ by his own flesh and blood. At least Laura had the decency to look a little guilty and ashamed of herself. He couldn’t say the same for Stiles.

Derek had no intention of going along with this ridiculous “makeover.” He wasn’t an arts and crafts project. He didn’t need to change. And he was prepared to open his mouth and tell all of this to his big sister even though she was staring up at him with those big, pleading green eyes that she knew were impossible for him to say no to. _Fuck…_

“I hate you,” Derek said, scowling and crossing his arms over his chest.

Laura screeched, jumping up and down. “That’s him saying he’ll do it!” she told Stiles excitedly. “Should I go, or do you need me to stay and be his translator?”

“No, I think we can work around this language barrier,” Stiles smirked. Derek wondered how it was possible for someone to contain that much mischief and mayhem behind their eyes. “Besides, this could take _hours_.”

Derek blanched, almost opening his mouth to say that he was taking it back and had changed his mind. But he could sense how happy this was making Laura. For some reason, this was really important to her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Laura said, tugging on his long beard and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But this could be really good for you if you give it a chance.”

With that, she left, and it was just Derek and Stiles staring each other down.

There was only one word to describe Stiles and that word was eccentric. And no, not because he was standing across from Derek in a full face of makeup and six-inch heels. His face was done quite well actually. His long false eyelashes framed his almond-shaped eyes and the shimmers that accentuated his cheekbones gave his skin a dewy flawlessness. His lips were coated with a bright shade of red gloss that looked good enough to bite. And somehow, he’d managed to pull off a full red plaid suit that would look ridiculous on just about anyone else but managed to look marvelous on him. Basically, he was _fucking gorgeous._ But even past that, Stiles wasn’t likely a person you’d meet every day. There was something about him that intrigued Derek to the point of irritation. And that alone was what made him unique.

“C’mon. Let me introduce you to my team.” He grabbed Derek’s wrist and dragged him towards the back of the salon.

The introductions all happened very quickly. Stiles zipped through everyone so fast that Derek had to ask for their names again. There was Allison, the wax specialist, Lydia, the nail technician, Danny, the personal stylist, and Erica, the skincare expert. And all were almost as beautiful as Stiles, which probably made Derek look even more grotesque.

“Where to start, where to start.” Stiles was pacing and tapping his chin as all observed Derek.

“You tell us, boss.” Erica popped her gum.

Lydia stopped filing her nails to look up and grimace.“I can’t even imagine the shape those cuticles must be in.”

“Cuticles!” Allison exclaimed. “Are you seeing that chest hair?!”

Danny looked down at Derek’s feet and wrinkled his nose. “Those boots have got to be from the 1970s.”

“I could see those clogged pores from Mount Everest.” Erica popped her gum again.

“Silence!” Stiles called, holding up a hand. “First things first, we’re chopping off the ponytail.”

“No!” Derek shouted and took a step back, his hand flying instinctively to his hair.

“Erica, hand me a pair of scissors, would you.”

Derek took more steps back. “I’ve had my hair like this forever!” Which was true. Derek never cut it, not even to trim. “I think it looks cool! You can’t just cut it off!”

“Fine,” Stiles posed and handed Derek the pair of scissors. “Then you do it.”

His grip on his hair became even tighter as he looked down at the scissors in horror. He knew that his hairstyle wasn’t popular in this modern age. However, Derek had never, not once in his life, cared about being hip or trendy. So, he’d be keeping his waist-length ponytail until the day he died.

“Seriously.” Stiles looked unimpressed. “You’re being a baby about a little hair? You can always grow it back.”

That was easy for him to say. Nobody was threatening to cut all of his hair off.

“We both know you’re not gonna stab me.” Stiles yawned when Derek looked up from the scissors with a hardened glare. “Do you think Braeden likes the hair? Unless she’s into the whole Gandalf thing you’ve got going on.”

Derek’s jaw clenched when Stiles brought up Braeden. It was a good attempt at persuading him but not enough. As much as Derek fancied himself in love with Braeden, he loved his hair so much more.

“It doesn’t even have to go to waste,” Stiles tried. “We can donate it so that a kid in need somewhere can put it to good use.”

Stiles had to know that attempt was weak. Most of the hair donated to charities like Locks of Love were unusable. And just because Derek had faced rejection everywhere in life didn’t mean that his hair had to, too.

“Fine.” Stiles gave up when he saw that Derek was still holding out. “You can keep the ponytail for now, but it’s getting chopped off at some point today. So, say your goodbyes.”

Derek let out a sigh of relief and handed him back the scissors. He wiped his forehead, not realizing he’d been sweating.

“Okay, so what do we do now?” Lydia asked, admiring her nails.

Stiles took another moment to think before a wide dangerous grin spread across his face. “Well, guys. It looks like Derek’s inviting us all over to his place.”

Derek paled.

“I hope your fridge is stocked ‘cause man are we hungry.”

 

* * *

 

If Derek could’ve pulled it off, he probably would’ve taken Stiles and his team to another apartment building and pretend to live there instead. Not that Derek was actually embarrassed for guests to visit his old, run-down loft, but he’d heard enough comments from Laura and Cora to know that it wasn’t exactly prime real estate.

“Oh my god,” Allison squeaked, “It’s so dark in here.”

“What is that smell,” Lydia hissed.

If they ever made a Glade Plugin of the odor of Derek’s loft, it would likely smell of dust, rotting food, and old mothballs.

“Can you see anything?” Erica sounded panicked. “I can’t see anything!”

The loft was very old and Derek had never had any light fixtures installed or done any other renovations.

“Just hold onto me. I promise I won’t let go,” Danny told her right before he screamed, “AH! Something’s crawling on me!”

“Hey, you promised you wouldn’t let go!” Erica whined.

The curtains opened with a flourish and vast amounts of sun spilled in from the tall windows. They all groaned as their eyes were forced to adjust to the light. Derek could see it in their faces; how they’d probably thought that the loft would look good once they could finally see it. They must’ve been mightily disappointed because the loft looked so much better in the dark.

Stiles sneezed loudly and turned to Derek with an incredulous look. “Do you ever open these?!” he asked, gesturing to the curtains.

“No, not really,” Derek replied.

Stiles closed his eyes, exhaling and inhaling deep bracing breaths, before opening them again. “You...you don’t have any furniture.”

“I don’t like tripping over things.”

“Then where are we all supposed to sit!” Stiles yelled.

“Don’t know. Don’t care,” Derek shot back.

“There is no way you’re getting laid with a place like this, dude.” Stiles looked around again, discouraged. “We’re gonna have to fix this _whole_ place up. This will be a lot more work than I anticipated.”

“I thought you were a hairdresser.”

“No, dude. I’m a _life-dresser_.”

Derek hated when people made words up, even when little kids did it. So, he was about to argue with Stiles that there was no such thing as a life-dresser when a piercing shriek jolted them both. They followed the shrieking to Derek’s bedroom and found Danny standing in the middle of Derek’s closet, pale-stricken, and wobbling.

“That’s—That is all there is in his closet.” Danny’s finger shook as he pointed to the clothes on the hangers.

“Shh.” Stiles wrapped his arms around him, smoothing a hand up and down his back.

“It’s all black!”

“I know.”

“There isn’t a single color!”

“I know.”

“Nothing is salvageable! It all must go!” He turned to Derek, holding up what was probably Derek’s favorite pair of shoes. “Do you own any other footwear besides these chunky boots!”

Derek shook his head.

Danny sobbed and looked like he was about to be sick. “I can’t—I can’t be in here anymore! This is too much! God, I’m going to have to cancel my date with Ethan!”

After Danny stormed out in a fit of tears, Stiles pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He found whoever it was he was looking for and pressed the phone to his ear, tapping his heel as he waited for them to answer.

“Isaac. Boyd,” he immediately sighed in relief when they picked up. “I’m calling in a favor. I’ve got a fixer upper and I need you to make it happen fast.” He paused to listen then said, “It’s a nice loft. Has a lot of potential... Thanks. I’ll send you the address... Make it worthy of a bachelor pad. We’re desperate here.”

Derek rolled his eyes, mocking Stiles behind his back. He didn’t understand why everyone was overreacting. For once, Derek was the only one that wasn’t being dramatic.

“Hey, Isaac, how do you feel about the color pink,” Stiles said, completely out of nowhere.

Derek froze and immediately stopped mimicking Stiles.

“That’s right,” Stiles said, turning back around. “Don’t fuck with me.”

 

* * *

 

“Now that Isaac and Boyd are taking care of your place, I think it’s best we start with your wardrobe,” Stiles said then stopped. “...Derek? Hey, Derek are you listening to me?”

He wasn’t.

“What is this place?” Derek asked, looking around in wonder.

“It’s the mall.”

 _The Mall._ Hmm, Derek was pretty sure he’d never heard of it before. “How many stores does this place have?” Derek gaped, spinning around. “Look at all those food stands!”

“Derek…” Stiles said slowly, “Have you never been to the mall?”

He shook his head. How would he be able to afford coming to a place like this? He was a simple man with a simple life. Of course, he made some money as an accountant, but not enough to live in such luxury and grandeur.

“Well, where do you get all your clothes?” Stiles asked next.

“Hot Topic,” Danny muttered under his breath in a way that Derek would probably be offended if he even knew what that was.

“Stop it, Danny,” Stiles scolded then tried again, “Derek, where do you do all your shopping?”

Derek shrugged. “Thrift stores, mostly.”

Danny groaned. “Even worse! He screams Salvation Army!”

“Alright, enough with the pouting,” Stiles reprimanded sternly. “I’m sorry that you had to cancel your plans, but it’s for a good cause.” He put a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “So, where to first, babe?”

Danny took a deep breath before exhaling, “Nordstrom.”

The mall continued to amaze. Nordstrom was _massive_ and seemed to have every article of clothing imaginable. Danny let Derek pick a few things out first to determine whether or not he even had taste and was surprised when Derek did a decent job. He then piled Derek’s arms with heaps of clothes and ushered him to the nearest fitting room to try it all on.

He had to say that Danny had made the right decision in choosing to become a stylist. He was very, very good at it. It was silly, but Derek had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself in the mirror after trying on the things Danny had picked. But Danny didn’t hand him anything too street or too preppy. Derek’s style was still comfortable, laid back, and a little rebellious. Just now a more updated version of that.

Derek stepped out of the fitting room stall to present himself to Stiles. He pulled at the hem of the shirt self-consciously and said, “Um, this one doesn’t fit.”

“You’re right,” Stiles grimaced as he studied the blue and orange striped shirt. “And it’s ugly. Take it off.”

The shirt was too tight to come off easily on its own. So, he needed Stiles’ help getting it over his shoulders. Thankfully, it didn’t rip and Derek wouldn’t have to be forced to pay for it. Because he’d caught a peek at that price tag, and in a store like Nordstrom, even the ugly stuff wasn’t cheap.

“Woah,” Stiles gasped when Derek was shirtless and finally free. “What the fuck, dude!? You are _ripped!_ ” His fingers trailed along Derek’s abs. “Who would’ve thought you’d have these hidden underneath all that chest hair. Woof-woof.”

Though he didn’t take care of himself in a lot of other ways, Derek always made sure to stay active and eat healthy. He knew he was in great shape, but to hear it from Stiles had Derek’s face turning crimson. Still, no matter how good he looked, he’d never be able to pull someone like Stiles.

Rushing back in with an armful of clothes, Danny pushed Derek once again into the fitting room stall, speaking giddily, “One last look.”

This time everything fit well when Derek walked back out. And looked good too he assumed by the way both Danny and Stiles were eyeing him appreciatively.

“I call this Sexy-Leather-Guy’s-Guy-Bad-Boy-Pretty-David-Beckham Chic!” Danny told them then looked to Stiles. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve outdone yourself,” Stiles applauded. “Looks great. Derek, how do you feel?”

Derek looked down at his new clothes, and even though he had no idea who David Beckham was, he dug his style. The white thermal he had on was soft and comfy and so were his dark jeans. He didn’t have on too many accessories, just a simple belt and wallet chain that hung from his pockets. And while they weren’t his Harley Davidson boots, he could get used to his new tan suede chukkas. Oh, and the black leather jacket totally had Derek feeling badass.

He admired himself in the mirror some more then answered Stiles’ question, “It wasn’t what I was expecting. But in a good way.” He looked over to the mountain of clothing looks that Danny had already said yes to. “Um, how am I paying for all of this?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Stiles waved dismissively. “I called in a favor and Nordstrom’s picking up the tab.”

Derek was for sure impressed when they walked out of Nordstrom with as many bags as they did without having paid for a single thing. In their short acquaintance, Stiles had been nothing but humble, but now Derek realized he wielded quite a bit of power. Which was pretty amazing considering how young he was. Laura did say that his hands had touched Beyoncé. Maybe it all came from that.

He was grateful when they finally wrapped it up at the mall. This was the most time he’d ever spent shopping, so he was clueless about how exhausting it could be. What he needed now was a nap but knew one wasn’t possible with Stiles and his team having much more in store for him. He did, however, ask if they could stop and get coffee and Stiles took him to Starbucks.

Now, Derek had heard of Starbucks before. He wasn’t _that_ much of a recluse and they were everywhere. But Derek was shocked to find out that it was a coffee shop and not a cash checking place like he’d assumed all these years. Stiles forced him to get an iced coffee in the name of culture, and though it didn’t make sense to him why anyone in their right mind would crave cold coffee, it was actually very good.

“So, what’s next?” Derek asked, sipping from his straw.

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t look at me.”

Derek frowned, his face donning a lost expression. Stiles took pity on him and nodded ahead to where Lydia and Erica were sitting on a fountain, smiling sharply at him. Erica blew a bubble with her gum then popped it savagely with her teeth. While Lydia held eye contact with him as she filed her nails with a pointy steel nail file.

He looked to the fountain behind them. If only he had a penny right now because, Lord, did he need a wish.

 

* * *

 

“Ow!”

Derek was being tortured. Tortured how, you ask? By Lydia and Erica and their various torture devices conveniently disguised as “beauty tools”.

“I can’t believe how big of a baby you’re being about a little dead skin,” Lydia chided. “You’re worse than the first time I gave Stiles an acrylic set.”

He wasn’t proud of how much he was complaining. He’d always thought he was a pretty tough guy. That is until he met Erica’s comedone extractor which pressed and scraped all over his face to remove whitehead and blackheads and clear out his pores. Or Lydia’s cuticle cutter which cleaned away the flaky skin around his rough and ragged fingernails. Before, he’d never understood what people meant when they said, “Beauty is pain”. But he understood it perfectly well now.

“Listen, these are the best your hands and feet have ever looked,” Lydia told him with a stern glare,“So I don’t want to hear any more complaining from you.”

Derek begrudgingly kept his mouth closed and let Lydia continue on. Erica, at least, had put away the comedone extractor and was now applying a thick delicious-smelling solution to his face.

“Mmh, what’s in this mask?” Derek asked. “Why does it smell so good?”

“Don’t eat it! Just kidding, it’s totally edible,” Erica teased and turned his face so she could continue applying the mask. “It’s ground cinnamon, honey, flaxseed, and a little secret ingredient.

“Plain yogurt,” Lydia interjected, winking at Derek. “The secret ingredient is always plain yogurt.”

Erica stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry at Lydia. “You always spoil my fun.”

Lydia just snickered and moved on to attacking the cuticles on Derek’s other hand.

“So tell us about the girl,” Erica said as she set a timer for the mask. “Is she hot and does she have a big rack?”

It took a few seconds for Derek to realize that she was asking about Braeden. Which was nuts because Derek was used to thinking about Braeden 24/7. She was what spawned this whole makeover and still, he spent more time wondering what Stiles would think at the end of this instead of her.

“Umm… She’s,” Derek shifted and cleared his throat. “She’s a very beautiful, girl. Um, I mean woman.”

“I asked about her rack.”

“Oh, yeah. She--” Derek continued shifting around in his chair. “She certainly has um...pleasant...bossoms that are large in size.”

Derek cringed at his own eloquence. He hoped his answer was enough to satisfy Erica’s curiosity. He had no idea what horrifying thing she might ask next.

Just when Derek thought the conversation couldn’t get any worse, Stiles appeared.

“You guys,” Stiles tssked. “We’re supposed to be fixing him up. Not breaking him."

Derek wondered if anyone’s cause of death had ever been mortification.

“You don’t have to answer any of their questions, Derek,” Stiles told him then smirked. “Though it has been some time since I’ve heard someone use the word bosom.”

Derek groaned. The mask made his face too tight to glare and Lydia was painting his nails with clear polish, so he couldn’t even give Stiles the finger. It was so unfair. Stiles left the room unscathed and cackling. He didn’t even have a nice laugh. But Derek liked it anyway.

“How do you know her?” Lydia asked.

“Hmm?” Derek said. _Oh yeah, Braeden._ “We’re co-workers. Her cubicle is the one right next to mine. But she’s never noticed me.”

“Impossible,” Lydia scoffed.

“Looking the way you do, my friend, doesn’t exactly make you someone that slips under the radar,” Erica said then gasped. “Maybe this whole time she’s been sexually attracted to all the hair—”

“And the overgrown toenails,” Lydia contributed.

“—But hasn’t acted on it because of society’s harsh standards.” Erica gasped again. “What if this is all a mistake. What if we get rid of the unibrow and you become hideous to her!”

Derek waited until the timer went off and he was able to thoroughly wash his face before giving that ludicrous idea the eye roll it deserved. However, it did bring an important question to mind. For the past year, despite their sitting right next to each other, Braeden had barely spoken to him. Hell, she probably didn’t even know his name. But once he changed his appearance, she would suddenly fall into his arms and notice him despite having ignored him previously? It just seemed a little shallow. He didn’t know how he felt about it.

“You know, I’d be very careful about workplace romances,” Lydia told him when he sat back down and let her have his hands again. “They can get so complicated.”

“Wait, don’t you and Allison have a workplace romance?” Erica twirled her gum around her finger.

“Yes, but we’re broken up this week, thus proving my point,” Lydia stated then gave Derek back his hands. She smiled knowingly as Derek stared down at his pristine fingernails. “World of difference, right?”

“Yeah.” Derek nodded, admiring his clean, moisturized skin in a mirror as well. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Erica snorted and Lydia rolled her eyes, standing up to crack her back; they wouldn’t be letting Derek forget about his whining anytime soon.

“All done with beauty?” Stiles popped back in.

Derek nodded and looked around. “What now?”

Stiles giggled then giggled some more then barely suppressed his manic laughter as he shouted, “Allison!”

 

* * *

 

Maybe Derek should no longer rely on first impressions. It was a very flawed and impractical way of judging people. _“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”_ Wasn’t that what they were always saying? Well, it was incredibly wise advice that Derek would be following from now on.

Some people only show who they are in certain situations. And when they reveal themselves, it may not always be pretty. There may have have been no inkling of that person’s true character, and so the previous image of them shatters and is gone forever.

For instance, one might meet a nice brown-haired girl with sweet brown eyes and an even sweeter dimpled smile and think, “Why, she must be the sweetest person ever.” The clues could all be there, but those deep dimples distract you and then you find out that they’re a serial killer!

Or a wax specialist. Really, they’re the same thing as both professions require emotionless monsters.

“Rip it all off, Allison!” Stiles called from the other side of the door.

“NOOO!!”

You think you know someone. You meet a gorgeous hair stylist with honey-colored eyes and beautiful mole spattered skin. And while they’re obnoxious, ridiculous, and infuriating, you just can’t get them out of your head. And then they end up being an accomplice to murder!

“Okay,” Allison exhaled. “How about we count to three…One” _Rip_

“OH, FUCK!”

Everyone around you isn’t what they seem. You were a fool to believe them all in the first place. You’ve learned now from your mistakes and won’t ever let it happen again.

“Wow, I guess someone’s never heard of manscaping.” Allison dimples flashed as she whipped off his towel. “God, I love my job.”

 

* * *

 

It was quite the day that Derek was having. So much had happened and still, it wasn’t over yet. There had been shopping with Danny for new clothes, then getting his nails done by Lydia and a facial from Erica, and, of course, Allison ruthlessly ripping the hairs on his body out from the follicle. Now it was time for the main event.

Derek held his head high as he limped his way into the room. He had to have lost a pound in body hair at least by the time Allison was done with him. He felt lighter and smoother than ever, save for his long beard and ponytail. A long beard and ponytail that he wouldn’t be keeping for much longer.

Stiles smiled sympathetically as he watched Derek drag himself towards the salon chair. “Doing okay there, big guy?”

Derek grunted and gingerly lowered himself into the seat.

“Well, this is the emotional part of the day.” Stiles wrapped the barber cape around Derek with a flourish and clipped it behind his neck. “Time to stop looking like one of the guys from Duck Dynasty.”

Derek snorted. “I thought you said I was Gandalf.”

“You are both.” Stiles grinned.

Derek peered at himself in the mirror, really taking a good look. He had two eyebrows now which was already a huge improvement. He remembered how fiercely he’d argued with Stiles earlier in the day about chopping off his beloved ponytail. But after taking a look and really seeing himself, he agreed with Stiles that it had to go.

“Laura was right,” he sighed. “I haven’t been taking good care of myself. I’ve been in hiding all these years because I didn’t want to deal with people. But that was never who I actually was. Who I’m supposed to be.”

Stiles placed his hands on Derek’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “You deserve to be yourself, Derek. You’re a good person and you work hard. So, no more living in hiding. And not just for some girl. For yourself above all.”

Derek nodded, eyes locking with Stiles’ in the mirror. They were so earnest and heartfelt that Derek almost couldn’t look away. He did though after an unbelievably awkward amount of time passed with neither of them saying anything.

Stiles picked up a pair of scissors. “Do you want to do the honors, or should I?”

Derek chuckled, taking them from him. He wrapped a hand around his ponytail, holding his breath and closing his eyes as he made the cut. He felt himself screaming on the inside, whether it was from excitement or regret, he didn’t know.

“Alright!” Stiles clapped his hands and turned the chair so Derek could no longer face the mirror. “Now, let’s get busy.”

It was captivating watching Stiles work. He never stopped moving, not even for a second. He danced, he sang, he did juggling tricks with the clippers; yeah…that last one was terrifying. Regardless, his hands felt nice in Derek’s hair.

The hairs fell and fell and fell to the ground until the floor was absolutely covered. When Stiles got to his beard, Derek held tight onto the arms of the chair, scared Stiles would slice his throat. But Stiles didn’t rush it and he was very precise. Derek could tell this was an art to him and that he was a perfectionist.

After stepping back multiple times to study him and shaking his head, dissatisfied, Stiles finally stepped back and grinned. “All done,” he said happily, dusting off the excess hair.

Even though Derek trusted Stiles, he was still a little nervous to see. Stiles made him cover his eyes and promise not to peek until he was told otherwise. The chair swiveled back around to face the mirror, and Stiles made a bunch of weird giddy noises then calmed down and told Derek he could look.

Derek’s hands fell away from his eyes, and what he saw in the mirror left him absolutely speechless. He glanced over at Stiles to see if he was witnessing this too. But Stiles just looked back at him like a lunatic, trying and failing to stifle his excitement. Derek gave his head a shake and took a look again. Same thing. He stood up and moved closer to the mirror. Same thing. He poked at his face and even slapped himself a little. Same fucking thing!

He lifted his hand to where his long, coarse beard used to be, but still couldn’t process yet that the person in the mirror was him. He might never process it, actually, because this was too surreal.

He jumped when Stiles moved next to him. “Yeah, I couldn’t get rid of it all.” He ran his fingertip along Derek’s jaw. “Stubbles sexy.”

Derek turned and stared at him, dazed. Did…did Stiles find him sexy? Because Derek totally found himself sexy in the most conceited way possible. He smirked when he realized that what he was feeling was him becoming a lot less insecure. And who knew, maybe Derek would’ve found the courage to open his mouth and say something smooth, but their eye sex was interrupted unfortunately when Erica, Allison, Lydia, and Danny barged into the room and started shrieking like a pack of hyenas.

Now, Derek wasn’t used to being told that he looked good and had no idea how to respond to the teams’ praises and compliments. Erica told him that he looked so hot that she wanted to rip her clothes off. Danny reminded her that she was a married woman and had Boyd, so he should be the one to get Derek all to himself.

Derek was saved from weighing in on the argument by Stiles who said, “Speaking of Boyd, I just got a text. Looks like Isaac and Boyd are all done with your place.”

“Hmm?” Derek said, forgetting to focus because he was looking in the mirror.

“Oh my god, you are already so conceited.” Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed his wrist. “Come on!’

 

* * *

 

When Derek walked out of his loft earlier in the day, he knew that when he returned everything would be different. Stiles had hired a professional contractor and interior designer after all, even though Derek thought the way his loft was decorated was perfectly fine. Still, Derek was no interior designer, not by any means, and made peace with the fact there might be some new furniture, maybe some new curtains, and a rug here or there.

However, as usual, Derek’s thinking was very naive. Never could he have expected a transformation of this magnitude.

His reaction was just like the people on HGTV. Isaac and Boyd had changed a heck of lot more than just the curtains. The entire loft had been redecorated. New flooring had been installed and there was an abundance of sleek modern furniture and decor. Derek now had fancy bedding, barstools, and bath mats. Who even knew bath mats were a thing?

Derek would’ve never thought to put things together like this. Which is duh, why things had been so barren before. Stiles really made the right call in getting Isaac and Boyd involved. If it wasn’t for him, then Derek would’ve never known about bath mats. _Bath mats!_

Erica’s husband, Boyd, laughed and introduced himself as Derek wandered around looking at everything. “We fixed the giant hole in the wall, but we’ve been curious all day. How’d it get there?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Derek furrowed his brows, trying to remember if it was there when he’d gotten the place.

Isaac introduced himself next, flipping his long scarf over his shoulder rather dramatically. “You have furniture now. See this coffee table? Reclaimed wood. See these things?” He held up a couple circular slabs of wood. “They’re called coasters. Use them!!”

“So, do you like it?” Stiles asked him, but from the amused smirk on his face, he had to have already known Derek’s answer.

“I fucking love it!” Derek grinned.

“Good,” Stiles smiled brightly. “Perfect place to seduce lots and lots of women.

Anyone really, Derek would’ve liked to have corrected. Stiles must assume he was straight. Which was rather inconvenient considering that Derek now had this major crush on him. Yeah... he had no idea what to do about that. But he didn’t want Stiles going off with wrong information. So, he definitely wanted to say something, but just before he could, Laura walked through the door.

“Wow!” Laura’s jaw dropped. “The loft looks absolutely amazing! Less of an echo now that there’s actual furniture in here. I think Derek’s going to just love it.”

That he did.

“Oh, Stiles!” She rushed over and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much for this. You have no idea how much my brother needs this. You’re changing his life. He’s such a good person with the biggest heart and I just want him to stop hiding from the rest of the world.”

Derek thought she looked like she was about to cry. He realized then just how much his big sister loved him. For her to go through the trouble of writing Stiles that letter and pushing him to do this makeover meant a lot. He just wished sometimes that she could not be so fucking crazy

“So,” she said giddily, “Where is he?”

Stiles’ looked over to him. “Right here.”

Laura frowned, shaking her head. “No, I mean, Derek. Where is he?”

“Right here.” Derek could tell Stiles was trying not to laugh. “This is him.”

Laura’s squinted then shook her head again. “Um...no, it’s not. Are you sure?”

To get her to believe them, Derek did his classic eyebrow raise. Although, it wasn’t completely the same now that he had two eyebrows instead of one.

Laura instantly recognized it anyway. “Oh my god!!” She screamed, bouncing as she looked him up and down. She screamed some more. “He’s beautiful!!”

“I know,” Stiles beamed.

“Like seriously, seriously gorgeous!”

“Isn’t he?” Stiles gave him a once over that was, dare he say, sensual.

“He should model!”

“He should,” Stiles nodded his head enthusiastically then turned to Derek and winked. “You should.”

Laura burst out in a startling fit of tears and threw herself onto Derek, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

“You look amazing, baby bro,” she sniffed, wiping her tears on Derek’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Stiles.”

“It’s no problem.” Stiles placed his hands together and bowed. “My finest work to date.


	2. Chapter 2

And there laid the problem. Making over Derek _was_ Stiles’ finest work. Stiles had done a great job. An _excellent_ job. But maybe _too good_ of a job to be possibly falling in love with a client.

 _One day_. All it had taken was one day for Stiles to become completely gone on Derek. Stiles had always been criticized for how fast they fell in love—mainly by Stiles’ dad—but this was a record!

Even before the reveal of how beautiful Derek was, Stile was charmed by Derek’s personality. Honestly, who wouldn’t be swayed by the grumpy clueless adorable mess that Derek was? And for Derek to love his sister so much that he agreed to put up with getting a makeover was just the sweetest thing. He had such a good heart under all that gruff exterior. Ugh, of course, he did. If he didn’t, Stiles certainly wouldn’t be in this dilemma.

But Derek was straight. _He was straight_. And even if he wasn’t, he was in love with that Braeden girl. The one with the _“pleasant bosoms that are large in size.”_ God, Derek had been so adorable when he’d said that. Maybe that was the moment Stiles got hung up on him.

Stiles’ team was getting sick of all the talk about Derek. Danny blamed Stiles and said Stiles’ moaning was Stiles’ own fault because Stiles had gotten caught up with a straight guy. Allison thought Stiles should just go for it and say something. Lydia agreed but with a threat of bashing Stiles’ head in if the whining continued. Erica thought Stiles needed a good one-night stand to get it out of their system which wasn’t at all surprising.

To make things worse, unlike other makeovers where Stiles never saw the client again, Stiles and Derek saw each other often. It appeared that Derek had taken Stiles' modeling suggestion very seriously and had changed career paths. And since Stiles had obviously done such a phenomenal job, it wasn’t long before Derek was booking small gigs. Apparently, his looks had been a distraction at work and was starting to annoy the higher ups. So, Derek up and quit; said he hated his accounting job anyway and wanted to try something new.

Stiles had connections _everywhere_ , but none more important than their very best friend in the whole-wide-world, Scott McCall. Scott was an award-winning fashion photographer. He was at the top of his industry and would surely make Derek successful. Scott had the power to make Derek famous, maybe even more famous than Stiles. So, Stiles thought the right thing to do would be to link them up for a photo shoot. Though, Stiles hadn’t predicted what the effects of seeing Derek in action would be.

“Come THROUGH!” Scott shouted as he moved around the set, snapping pictures from various angles as Derek posed shirtless. “Sickening!! Slay!”

Scott took some more pictures of Derek, asking him to flex, arch his body, make eyes at the camera, _make love to the camera_ , smolder, clench his jaw, and all of this Derek followed exactly with ease. He effortlessly repositioned his body, somehow knowing how to find his light to give Scott flawless photo after flawless photo.

Stiles was embarrassingly aroused. Thankfully, Stiles woke up in a mood to wear a knee-length beige tulle skirt, paired stylishly with a long-sleeve white crop top and their tallest gold pumps. And that’s what Stiles liked the most about wearing a pretty dress as opposed to pants, lots of secrets could be hidden underneath a skirt.

“Yes, you’re doing amazing, sweetie,” Scott praised. “You are giving me life! Keep serving that cheekbone realness for the gods!”

“What is wrong with that photographer?”

Stiles jumped, having not realized that someone had come to stand right beside them. Stiles looked over at the stranger, a petite brunette that Stiles didn’t recognize. “Ever heard of a disease called too gay to function?” Stiles answered with a chuckle.

Scott whipped his head around and glared. “Is that a read?”

Stiles grinned, head shaking, “No tea. No shade.”

Scott had always been Scott and Stiles had always been Stiles. Stiles remembered when they were younger, how the both of them had worried that they’d never find love, never find someone that would accept them completely. Yeah, it was a pretty rough way to grow up, but they made it out in the end. Scott was deeply in love with Isaac who he’d be marrying very soon. And Stiles...well, Stiles was still looking for someone that could be cool with all that Stiles was.

“He looks amazing, doesn’t he,” the stranger spoke again.

“Yeah, he does,” Stiles said, hoping they hadn’t been caught drooling over Derek earlier.

“You’re Stiles, aren’t you?” The stranger peered closely. “Um...What pronouns should I...?”

Stiles had woken up in a mood to be blonde, which was understandable why one might have asked the question given the long blonde wig.

Smiling brightly, Stiles held out a hand. “I’m just Stiles.”

The reason Stiles had chosen the name Stiles was that it was neither feminine or masculine. Which was perfect because, to Stiles, gender was a moot point in life. Stiles didn’t prescribe to a specific gender or even a specific sexuality. Stiles was just Stiles and being that way was how Stiles found life to be the most fun.

Although, it was always a pleasant surprise to be prompted about pronouns, especially when Stiles was _so_ understanding of others assuming. Stiles knew that others in the world needed things like pronouns to make sense of stuff or whatever, so Stiles was fine answering to anything: him her, they, trail mix, moon, giraffe; it didn’t matter when one knew that someday humans would cease in sticking labels on each other. Then the world would be _tons and tons_ of fun.

Until that day, Stiles typically liked to go with he/him and they/them pronouns, just because it was an honor to challenge the concept of being a “man” in today’s society. Though, it might be cool going by feminine pronouns for today, which, after a rather long rant on the topics of gender, labels, and world peace, Stiles told the lovely and ever so patient stranger that they could use she/her for the moment.

“I’m Derek’s sister, Cora Hale.” The stranger smiled back, shaking Stiles' hand enthusiastically. “You did a spectacular job. I actually fainted when I saw him. Both of our parents died when we were young and without the beard, Derek’s the spitting image of my dad. Seriously, my sister and I just can’t get over it. We’re still in shock.”

It made Stiles sad to hear that Derek had lost both of his parents. Stiles could never forget losing her mom as a kid. It’d been soul crushing. She couldn’t imagine how she would’ve survived losing her dad too.

“Laura and I have been talking about finding a way to pay you back somehow,” Cora continued, still holding onto Stiles’ hand. “To say thank you. You have no idea what you’ve given him. He’s so much happier.”

Stiles looked back over at Derek who was giving the camera the sexiest half-smile Stiles had ever seen. Seriously, Stiles almost melted into a puddle on the ground. “Ummm,” Stiles said eloquently; her synapsis were definitely fried. “I don’t need any payment. I love my job and this was fun. Plus, this was totally an act of public service. Now straight women everywhere can rejoice.”

Stiles didn’t want to be bitter, but she was bitter. Sometimes the world could be so unfair.

“Oh, Derek’s not straight.”

 _Pause. Hold. Wait. Stop._ Had Stiles heard that correctly? Everything was coming to a screeching halt. She definitely needed Cora to play that back.

“He’s pansexual. Came out in college. So really, everyone everywhere can rejoice.”

“Seriously!” Stiles cried. “Are you fucking kidding me! Where the hell is my goddamn Nobel Prize!”

“YAAASSS!!” Scott shouted. 

* * *

So, Derek wasn’t straight. But that didn’t mean that Stiles’ dilemma was even a little bit closer to being fixed. Derek wasn’t straight, but he was still in love with Braeden. Derek wasn’t straight, but he was still hotter than the sun. Derek wasn’t straight, but he still might not even like Stiles or be attracted to Stiles in the slightest.

Stiles consulted the team. Danny laughed at Stiles for like 10 minutes for assuming Derek’s sexual orientation and being wrong. Allison screamed and pumped her fist in the air and told Stiles that Stiles _had to_ go for it because Stiles and Derek would be so cute together and she believed in true love. Lydia was disappointed that Stiles was getting so stupid over a romance. Erica said that she would _totally_ buy Stiles and Derek’s sex tape which wasn’t at all surprising.

And while Stiles had doubts, Stiles was beginning to experience a tiny bit of hope. They’d been spending a lot of time together lately; most of the time for work since Scott had been working with Derek a ton. Derek had said something about feeling more confident when Stiles did his hair and makeup and Stiles tried hard not to unpack that and get carried away. But it might be something and that possibility kept Stiles going.

That is until Derek informed Stiles that he’d finally gotten the courage to ask Braeden out and they would be going on a date Saturday night. Stiles was a hair stylist, not an actor. But boy, did Stiles put on the performance of their life pretending to be happy for Derek.

Stiles avoided Derek for the rest of the week and tried to keep Derek out of their thoughts. Granted, if Stiles was able to successfully stop thinking about Derek, Stiles would’ve done that weeks ago, so that was a fail. Ironically, on Saturday night, just as Stiles was pondering how Braeden and Derek’s date would go, Stiles had gotten an emergency text message from Derek.

All it said was “Help!” then followed with the address to Derek’s loft. It was safe to say that Derek probably wasn’t getting hacked to pieces by a serial killer. He likely was freaking the fuck out about his date and wanted Stiles to come over and calm him down. Talk about adding insult to injury.

Stiles couldn’t leave him hanging, though. Not after seeing how beautifully Derek had come out of his cocoon of ugliness. Derek was a butterfly now but was very new at flapping his wings. So, Stiles got into the jeep and drove over to the loft to help the little butterfly soar.

Stiles hadn’t even knocked yet when Derek practically ripped the door off its hinges. Then he turned and stalked off towards his bedroom without even saying hello, talking faster than Stiles could comprehend.

“I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to act! I don’t know how to dress! I don’t know how to be!!!”

Derek had on two different shoes and was wearing three ties. It was safe to say that Stiles was entering a category 5 meltdown.

“What the hell are we gonna talk about! She’s probably going to want to talk. How can I do that if I don’t talk! Stiles, are you even listening?!” Derek finally swung around to look at Stiles and stopped everything. “Oh,” he said hesitantly. “You’re down there.”

Stiles woke up in a mood to wear their favorite pair of converses, their comfy blue jeans, and a loose blue and red plaid shirt. Stiles didn’t feel like putting makeup on this morning either. So, it was understandable why Derek might be surprised.

“Ehh, I woke up in a mood.” Stiles shrugged by way of an explanation.

“I didn’t think—” Derek stopped then started again carefully. “I didn’t think you ever wore flats.”

“Well, I do…” Stiles said, watching Derek _very_ closely.

Ever since grade school, Stiles had used clothes as armor and stopped caring about people’s opinions. Stiles was Stiles and Stiles refused to be forced to fit into a box or let anyone label them or put them down. Because Stiles wouldn’t be living a very happy life if Stiles did let people do that. Stiles once got picked on for wearing Disney princess dresses on the playground, but Stiles would always stand up for themself and leave bullies crying. Stiles’ mom told Stiles it was okay to dress in whatever Stiles felt in the mood to wear and Stiles continued to do just that every single day.

The quiet stretched on and it was clear that Derek was uncomfortable. Which was a bit sad because Stiles liked Derek. Stiles really did.

“Have you uh…” Derek started. It was clear that he was trying to hold back laughter which made things even sadder. “Have you always been...this short?”

“Stop.”

Stiles had liked him better when Stiles thought he was a bigot.

Derek hooted with laughter, bending over and holding his stomach. Stiles started to ask himself, " _why had he even come over and why was Derek the worst?"_

“How—” Derek could barely breathe. “How tall are you exactly?”

Stiles didn’t have time to answer such an inelegant question. Derek needed to get ready for his date and it seemed that Stiles was the only one that cared about his being punctual.

“I will hit you,” Stiles warned when the laughter didn’t wane.

“How will you reach!”

“You know I can and will take out your knees!”

“More like my ankles!” Derek fell to the ground howling and crying real tears.

“I swear, Derek, I will stab you!!”

Stiles was short, but not _that_ short. Did Stiles have to tilt their head back a bit to look at Derek? Yes. When Stiles sat down in a chair, was it a possibility that their feet might not touch the ground? Sometimes but not really. Had Stiles often been mistaken for a small child? Yes. _But_ in heels, Stiles was almost the same height as Derek and heels made Stiles’ legs look nice and long.

Stiles marched towards Derek’s bedroom, ignoring the ugly cackles from behind. Derek’s bedroom was in complete disarray. Half the closet was laid on the bed and Derek must have absentmindedly left the iron on which could’ve been very dangerous. Though, Stiles might use it as a weapon on Derek who was still fucking laughing about Stiles’ height.

“Where are you taking her?” Stiles demanded.

Derek’s laughter simmered and he wiped his eyes, “Who?”

“Braeden. The reason you called me over, remember,” Stiles said slowly. “You were in the middle of panicking.”

“Oh, right.” Derek stood up from the floor and brushed himself off.

“Soooo…” Stiles said pointedly, “Where are you guys going for dinner?”

“Um, Mimmo’s,” Derek finally replied.

Mimmo In Cucina was a casual family-style Italian restaurant. Stiles wondered why Derek wouldn’t have picked something more upscale for a first date. Then again, Derek didn’t know about a lot of things. Like how he thought Starbucks was a cash-checking place. God, that was golden. Maybe it was in that moment that Stiles got hung up on Derek.

“Okay,” Stiles clapped his hands together and gazed at the messy pile on the bed, trying to pick out an outfit Stiles knew Danny would approve of. “Aha! Button up shirt and jeans with the leather jacket. It’s casual but a little dressed up to show that you put some effort in”

Stiles didn’t trust Stiles to stay in the room while Derek got undressed. So Stiles handed everything to Derek and hauled ass out of there. Derek reappeared looking all dolled up and seemed much calmer than he’d been when Stiles had first arrived. The blue button-down Stiles chose for him really brought out the color of his gorgeous eyes. If Braeden didn’t fall in love with Derek tonight then she was a massive idiot.

“How’s my hair?” Derek asked, turning his head from side to side.

Stiles smiled softly and shrugged. “A little too much gel, but what are ya gonna do.”

Derek actually looked relaxed for once as he plopped down on the couch next to Stiles. It seemed that Stiles’ job was done here, so Stiles guessed they should probably peace out. But just as Stiles was about to stand up and excuse himself, Derek inhaled sharply and turned pale.

“The kiss!” Derek’s eyes widened and he was back to panicking. “I completely forgot about the kiss. What am I going to do at the end of the date if she wants to kiss me?! Should I kiss her or should I not?”

Stiles was horrified that Derek was asking them to answer that question. In Stiles’ honest opinion, no, Derek shouldn’t kiss her. But Stiles’ opinion was also completely biased and contingent upon the fact that Stiles wanted Derek all for himself.

“I don’t know, dude,” It pained Stiles to say, “It depends on the moment.”

“Well, what do you think is appropriate for a first date? Open-mouth, closed-mouth, cheek?”

“Err, you’ll know when the situation arises.”

“Stiles, I haven’t kissed anyone in a really, really, _really_ long time,” Derek said seriously.

Stiles wilted a little inside. “But you want to kiss her?”

“Yes! And I’d like it to be good.”

“Okay.” Stiles took a deep breath, turning themself on the couch to face Derek.

This _sucked._ This majorly sucked. But Derek needed Stiles’ help. Stiles waited, wondering how long it would take for Derek to get it. When Derek did, he turned himself to face Stiles as well, raising a hand to lift Stiles’ chin. Stiles didn’t know what to expect. He closed his eyes and held his breath. Derek leaned in close, lingering as his breath ghosted Stiles’ lips. Derek pushed forward and Stiles felt the touch of his warm chapped lips then nothing at all.

Stiles opened his eyes and blinked. Derek raised a brow, looking at him expectantly.

“Was that good?”

Stiles had to open and close his mouth a couple of times to find the words. “It was...You know, it kind of reminded me of kissing my Babcia, which, if you didn’t know, is Polish for grandmother. Appropriate after a night of bingo, not so appropriate after a date.”

Derek had a disappointed look on his face. Stiles nudged him and smiled encouragingly.

“You need to give it a little more oomph.”

“Oomph?” Derek repeated.

Stiles nodded and closed their eyes again, licking their lips that were still tingling from that first brush of their mouths. Again, Stiles did not know what to expect, especially after that lame ass kiss, but Stiles certainly wasn’t expecting _this._

The difference was day and night. Stiles called bullshit. Derek hadn’t kissed anyone in a “really really _really_ long time,” yet he was probably the best kisser Stiles had ever known. In this case, the pupil surpassed the master. Derek did everything perfectly. From pulling Stiles into his lap and grasping the back of his neck for a deeper kiss to nibbling playfully on Stiles’ bottom lip and experimentally dipping his tongue into Stiles’ mouth.

Stiles shuddered, whimpering as Derek took things further, kissing down Stiles’ neck. Stiles’ eyes rolled back in his head as Derek’s teeth scraped along his skin. God, Stiles wanted this and it seemed like Derek did too. But none of this was for Stiles, just fucking practice for Braeden.

It was that thought exactly that made Stiles quickly pull away. “Okay, dude. You’ve got this.” Stiles was breathing like he’d just come up from being underwater. “You’re good.”

Shakily, Stiles crawled out of Derek’s lap, but not without fielding more short jokes from Derek. On their way out, Stiles tripped Derek in retaliation but was still nice enough to wish Derek luck on his date. As Stiles was turning to head towards the jeep, Derek caught Stiles’ arm and stopped them. Stiles’ heart began hammering wildly in his chest, wondering what Derek could possibly be stopping him for. It was stupid, it was so stupid, but Stiles thought Derek might feel something for him, especially after he’d just kissed the hell out of Stiles. But Stiles could be imagining things.

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek said with a silly smile. If it was another short joke Stiles would definitely get in the jeep and run him over. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” Stiles was taken aback.

“Everything.” Derek grinned.

He pulled Stiles into his arms and hugged Stiles, well more like tried to squeeze Stiles to death.

“Have fun,” Stiles said, smiling sadly into Derek’s shirt.

And it was sad because Stiles knew it was time. Time to lay to rest all the thoughts and possibilities of them ever being together.

* * *

Award season came faster than Stiles expected and suddenly Stiles had their hands full with doing some of the biggest A-List celebrities’ hair for every event. There was the Golden Globes, the NAACP Image Awards, the Screen Actors Guild, the Grammys, and Oscars, which was undoubtedly the most hectic of them all. Stiles and the team were stuck in LA for three whole months. But now that it was over, they could finally get a much-needed break. At least, until they had to fly to New York for the Met Gala in May.

Being that Stiles had been insanely busy— _sooo_ much hair to flat iron, cut, and curl—Stiles wasn’t able to keep up much with what was going down in Beacon Hills. Or, really, Stiles wasn’t able to keep up much with Derek.

They’d been in and out of touch a lot lately. Stiles had heard through the grapevine that Derek had signed on with Ford Models, which was super exciting. Stiles was very happy for him and glad that his career was taking off. But Stiles didn’t know much about Derek and Braeden and wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

In Stiles’ time away, Stiles was able to put aside their feelings for Derek. When work took over, Stiles didn’t get many opportunities to sit down and feel sorry for himself. However, that all reversed as soon as the plane touched ground in Beacon Hills. Stiles’ first thoughts were of their dad and the shop, of course. Stiles had been keeping tabs on the Beacon Hills salon, as Stiles did with all their other salons, and the staff there seemed to be doing an excellent job according to the rave reviews.

Stiles’ dad, on the other hand, had totally let himself go. Without Stiles there to keep him eating healthy, Stiles’ dad had pigged out and gotten himself a pot belly. His hair had also gotten way too long, even the ones in his ears and nose. _Eww._ He badly needed a spa day to take care of his long, razor-sharp toenails and oily skin. Naturally, this took a team effort. Stiles had asked Danny to work out with Stiles’ dad to take care of the belly and also pick out some smart clothing options that would conceal it until it was gone. Allison took care of waxing the long hairs in Stiles’ dad’s nose and ears. While Lydia and Erica treated him to a pedicure and skin treatment. And obviously, Stiles had to give him a dapper age-appropriate haircut.

But after all that was settled and done with, Stiles’ mind turned over to being all about one thing and that was _Derek, Derek, Derek, Derek!_ When would Stiles seem him again? Would he even remember Stiles? It’d been so long. Were things over between him and Braeden? Did he already find someone else? Gasp! Was Derek now a player? Ugh, why did he have to be so beautiful? And why the hell couldn’t Stiles get him off their mind?

To keep himself busy, Stiles had been taking appointments at the salon, which was a nice change of pace since the citizens of Beacon Hills were much nicer than their clients in LA. In fact, Stiles was working on a delightful elderly man’s mohawk when Stiles heard Derek’s voice again for the first time in months.

“Hey, Kira.” Stiles overheard Derek saying in the reception area. “I heard Stiles is back.”

“Um—Er—Yes,” she stuttered. “Mr. Stilinski arrived a few days ago.”

Kira continued to have quite a bit of work to do on her receptionist skills. But Stiles had faith in her, no matter how much she stammered and clumsily dropped things. Stiles could hear her dropping things now as she spoke to Derek and chuckled, shaking their head.

“Great,” Derek sounded pleased. “Can I set up an appointment? My hair’s getting a little long.”

“Yes. Sure. Certainly,” Kira’s reply was accompanied by the sounds of keyboard typing and mouse clicks. “Um—Er—It looks like Mr. Stilinski has June of 2019 available.”

Stiles covered their mouth, trying their hardest to laugh quietly. It was clear that Stiles would have to explain to Kira how the booking system worked again. She was just too cute. Stiles was already pretty much done with the elderly client whose outrageous mohawk was standing tall and proud. So, Stiles quickly checked their makeup and hair in the mirror before walking through the curtains to the reception area.

Derek was looking _so damn good_ , especially after Stiles hadn’t seen him in such a long time. Stiles felt his knees weaken when Derek beamed at him and waved. Stiles smiled back, honestly really happy to see him. Derek was right, his hair was looking a little shaggy, but other than that he looked perfect.

“You’re just in luck, dude. Chairs free,” Stiles said, waving goodbye at the elderly mohawk gentleman as he walked out of the salon.

Stiles had Derek follow him to the back towards the wash basins. Stiles sat Derek down and draped a cape around him, chuckling when Stiles ran a hand through Derek’s hair. “Are we going to have to talk about gel again?”

Derek ducked his head sheepishly. “I never know what’s too little and what’s too much.”

Stiles hummed and danced as they went about washing Derek’s hair. Derek was like putty in Stiles’ hands, sighing contentedly as Stiles massaged the shampoo into his hair and itched his scalp with their long fingernails. Stiles turned the sink off and toweled him off, then brought Derek over to Stiles’ station, cha-cha-ing as he picked up the clipper and started buzzing away.

“So... I never asked you...” Stiles’ curiosity was driving him batshit crazy. “...How was your date with Braeden?”

“It was great, actually,” Derek told Stiles. “We talked a lot. Have a lot in common.”

“Oh.” That kind of wasn’t what Stiles wanted to hear. “Well, I’m very happy for the two of you. Are things getting serious?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” That was more along the lines of what Stiles wanted to here. “Why not? Did something go wrong?”

“I just think we’re better off as friends.” Derek allowed Stiles to readjust his head so Stiles could tidy Derek’s stubble. “I didn’t like that she only started noticing me because of the way I looked, and the connection wasn’t there like I thought it would be.”

“Don’t sweat it, dude,” Stiles told him, though Stiles couldn’t gauge whether Derek was upset. “You’ll find someone that’ll appreciate how amazing you are. You’re so much more than your hotness.”

Stiles flicked the clipper off, tossing it up and down in the air as they picked up their shears and comb. Standing behind Derek, Stiles moved the come through his hair, sectioning it off before beginning to scissor. Stiles belted out some of his girl Beyoncé as he cut, singing, _“I woke up like this, I woke up like this, We flawless, ladies tell 'em.”_

Stiles could see Derek’s handsome face laughing in the mirror. Stiles, very maturely, stuck out his tongue.

“But trust me, big guy, someone else will come along. I mean, look at all these chicks in here checking you out.”

Stiles jerked his thumb towards all the nosy patrons of the salon who’d been stealing glances at Derek ever since he walked in. Derek turned to look and they all snapped their heads away. Not a single one of them was being subtle.

Stiles sang more Beyoncé and busted out the “***Flawless” choreography. Derek laughed loudly and told Stiles to put the shears down before they hurt themself.

“All done.”

Stiles brushed off the excess hairs and unclipped the cape. Derek stood up and inspected himself in the mirror, smiling broadly in approval. As if Stiles would ever do a bad job.

“I already have someone else in mind.”

“Hmm?” Stiles cocked his head because that was totally random and out of the blue.

“I think I’m already into someone else.”

“Wow.” Stiles’ brows raised. There went his good Beyoncé-vibing mood. “That fast, huh.”

Derek shrugged. “Well, I’m not getting any younger. But I’m not really sure how to proceed…”

Stiles wanted to repeatedly bang his own head against a wall. Why was Derek doing this to him? Truthfully speaking, this was all Stiles’ own doing. Stiles had helped Derek in so many other areas of life, so it only made sense that Derek would be comfortable coming to Stiles for love advice. Sure, it was rough when Derek came to him about Braeden, but that was understandable. Now, he wanted Stiles’ help to hook up with some strange new person. This was completely fucked up!

There were very few things in life that Stiles wasn't confident in. Stiles knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they weren’t ugly. They were smart, witty, talented, generous and humble. They were likable. _Loveable._ But this had them faltering. There must be a reason why all their relationships were always one-sided.

Stiles huffed and raked his hands through his hair, sourly asking, “Do you know them well? Like, have you talked to them?”

Derek nodded. “I could say we’re friends.”

“Well, then you’ve already got an in. You’ve spoken to each other before, probably know enough about each other to sustain a decent conversation. Less awkward first date. Just take a deep breath, flash them a smile that doesn’t look like it’s physically paining you, and ask them out for coffee without really letting them in on it being a date. Confidence is key, and if they’re crazy enough to say no, then at least you know you tried.”

Derek nodded, taking it all in. “Right, confidence.” He slipped his leather jacket on and reached for his pocket. “How much do I--”

Stiles held up a hand. “Your money's no good here, sir. I don’t take money from friends.”

 _Friends._ Stiles could be content with them just being friends.

Derek snorted. “Friends? You’re more like my life coach.”

“ _Life-dresser_ ,” Stiles corrected with a smirk, taking it as a victory when Derek rolled his eyes heavily.

“You have to let me make it up to you somehow,” Derek said as Stiles turned to clean the instruments. “I don’t know how I lived so long without knowing what hair conditioner did.”

Stiles snorted loudly at that. Derek had argued so passionately that shampoo and conditioner were the same things. Stiles had to break it to him that he was wrong. _So wrong._ Stiles demonstrated on Derek, washing his hair to show him how shampoo had opened up the cuticles and removed debris. While conditioner sealed them back up and made the hair shiny and smooth. Stiles was proud to have that lesson resonate so powerfully with Derek.

“Listen I know how busy your schedule is, but I really want to find a way to thank you. Maybe we could hang out and catch up and you’ll let me buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Stiles replied amiably, still cleaning the tools. “That sounds—”

Stiles froze, stopping mid-disinfection spree. Because that...no...that sounded eerily familiar. Almost like the dating advice Stiles had _just_ given him. Stiles was Derek’s friend. And now that Stiles thought about it, Derek wasn’t really a people person, so it wasn’t likely that he made a bunch of new friends while Stiles was gone. Derek had also just straight up asked Stiles out for coffee. And even though Stiles’ back was turned to him, Stiles knew Derek had to be wearing a painful smile on his face, because, of course, he wouldn’t follow Stiles’ directions to the T.

Putting the barber tools down, Stiles gradually turned himself to face Derek. And just like Stiles thought, there was that painfully nervous smile on his lips. Stiles daintily placed a hand on his forehead and swooned. That’s right Stiles fucking swooned! Because that smile was the most beautiful thing they’d ever seen and Derek had better catch them before Stiles hit the ground.

“Oh, you smooth motherfucker!!” Stiles shouted once he landed safely in Derek’s arms.

Derek laughed, holding Stiles up. “Is that a yes?”

“Fuck yes, that’s a yes!” Stiles cried.

Stiles kissed Derek then. Kissed the hell out of his stupid, grumpy, sexy face. All the patrons in the salon started ooo-ing and cheering. Yeah, it got _rowdy_. Derek was still a perfect kisser, incredibly so, and when things got hot, which they inevitably did, Stiles pulled away.

“You know, maybe we should go right now,” Stiles smirked saucily. “I’ve got coffee back at my place.

**Author's Note:**

> subscribe to my [ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jadore_hale/profile) for more of my fics! follow my [tumblr](http://jadorehale.tumblr.com/) or my [twitter](http://twitter.com/jadore_hale/) for explicit post about porn and pizza. (this is totally false advertising)
> 
>  


End file.
